


Just Mates

by ravenpuff1956



Category: Bridgerton (TV), Bridgerton Series - Julia Quinn
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Dorks in Love, F/M, Falling In Love, Idiots in Love, Jealousy, Mating Bond, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-13 12:15:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29153409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ravenpuff1956/pseuds/ravenpuff1956
Summary: What was going to be a relaxing holiday, is quickly turning into a test of her will.But she refuses to fall in love with Colin Bridgerton again.Penelope Featherington will not.
Relationships: Anthony Bridgerton/Kate Sheffield, Colin Bridgerton/Penelope Featherington, Daphne Bridgerton/Simon Basset, Penelope Featherington/Original Male Character(s)
Comments: 238
Kudos: 601





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone!
> 
> This is an Alpha/Beta/Omega fic- I've tried to make this chapter as explanatory as I can, for anyone whose not as familiar with it. If you're not into the trope, don't worry, you don't have to read it if you don't want to :) 
> 
> Hope everyone enjoys!
> 
> I haven't read the books by the way, and this is written after the TV show, so sorry for any differences.

“ _Pen!_ ” Eloise screams out in a way that’s most unladylike. 

Penelope steps down from the creaky carriage, waving excitedly up at her friend. 

Eloise bounds down the steps of Clyvedon , her pretty scent wafting around her. Something spicy and warm, which Penelope's been in love with from the she presented.

All the Bridgerton women are Omegas, which make them that more desirable. All the Bridgerton men are Alpha’s which make them that more impressive. Gregory and Hyacinth are of course still too young to have presented, but there is no doubt what they will be. 

Just as there is no doubt that Penelope will be a Beta. All her family, even her father was one. Penelope is pleasantly resigned to the fact. 

Beta’s have none of the power and confidence of Alpha’s- Penelope has none of either, and has gotten used to it. 

Omega’s, with their tantalizing desirability, as well as heats which increase their fertility ten-fold, makes them targets for all the lords and Alpha’s in England. 

To keep up her ruse of Lady Whistledown, Penelope is happy to be herself- a ordinary Beta, nothing fancy. She's shy and plain and out of the spotlight. 

Not that she’s presented yet. It’s not official. 

But  _ everyone _ knows. 

It’s why her mother agreed to let her stay with the Bridgertons while they visit the Duke and Duchess of Hastings for a fortnight this summer. Beta’s have hardly any chance of being ruined by any single Alphas visiting the country home. Penelope is not an appealing catch in the slightest. 

But as Eloise swings her delicate arms around her, Penelope can’t help but feel a sting of jealousy. Her closest friend, despite her best attempts, has an air around her; something that draws you in. Omega’s are the darlings of society and every Alpha’s dream of a wife.

Penelope knows her forthcoming status as Beta will mean she has no chance of being swept of her feet by an Alpha. 

Even if an one of them, for instance, Colin Bridgerton grew to care for her more than a sister, she will never equate to an Omega’s loveliness. Penelope will never have their ability to capture a room. Or the temptation which is their scent. 

“I was afraid your Mama would never let you come,” Eloise links her arm in hers, and practically pulls her up the castles stones steps, “It’s been truly awful without you,”

“You jest,” Penelope shakes her head, turning round to make sure her luggage is being taken up by the servants. She’s managed to bring her least yellow dresses for the occasion. 

“I’m serious!” Eloise cries, ever the dramatic, “Mother has invited over at least _two_ eligible bachelors every night in the hope one of them will ‘ _catch my eye_ ’,” She makes a face which tells her just what she thinks of that. Penelope laughs, shaking her head, her long curls tickling her neck.

“Well I’m glad I can be of service,” Penelope beams. It’s the first time in years she’s been out of her mama’s grasp, and already it feels as though a ten-tonne weight has lifted from her shoulders. Every single one of the Bridgertons treat her as part of the family, not as a burden and she’s been counting down the days for this visit for weeks.

“ _You are_ , most definitely,” Eloise’s eyes sparkle, and her friends tireless energy seems to melt into Penelope’s bones, as it always does, “You’re here now, and Colin got back this morning, so finally Mother, Anthony and Daphne are going to be outnumbered on the _daily_ argument of me getting married,” 

Penelope’s heart stutters in her chest, and she almost trips on the top step. It’s been three years since she rejected him for a dance at the Hasting’s ball, and she hasn’t seen him since. From the letters he’s sent to Benedict- and stolen by Eloise- Penelope knows Colin has been off adventuring, and most definitely raking, around the continent. 

She’s done her best to forget about him. Penelope thought she had succeeded at batting her silly, immature crush away. But as she scans the thousands of windows for a peek of his face, Penelope realises that she has certainly not succeeded. 

Eloise continues to prattle away, ignorant of the downpour of feelings chewing up Penelope’s stomach.

They don’t see him. Not when the housekeeper gives them a tour, or when Penelope gets shown to her room.

It’s far, _far_ away from the bachelors corridor, but she can still smell him. 

Colin’s scent, like freshly baked bread, straight out of the oven. It makes her heart skip a beat, and her cheeks flush. 

Like no doubt it’s made plenty of the young ladies he’s met do the same. And _more_. 

Penelope flops down on her head, and presses her head into her hands. 

What was going to be a relaxing holiday, is quickly turning into a test of her will. 

But she refuses to fall in love with Colin Bridgerton again. 

Penelope Featherington _will not._

It sounds weak, even to her own ears.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! 
> 
> Next chapter is up! Hope everyone enjoys. 
> 
> I haven't read the books by the way, so if there's anything incorrect that's why.

Penelope gets dressed for dinner as slow as humanly possible. Her dress is a soft pink and Eloise gifted her some white roses to twist into her ruby hair.  She keeps messing with her appearance in front of her long length mirror. 

Penelope sighs in defeat. 

No matter what she does her hair will always be too red, her skin too pale and her hips too large. 

“Pen, you ready?” Eloise bursts through her door, just like a sister, not even bothering to knock. 

“Yes,” Penelope turns away from her reflection: some things are just a lost cause. 

Eloise cocks her hip at the doorway, frowning. She’s always had an almost magical ability to read her mind.

“You’re beautiful,” Eloise says bluntly, nodding her head, like there’s nothing else to say. 

“I’m-,” Penelope whines uncomfortably, plenty of rebuttals right there and ready on her tongue. 

“Ahh,” Eloise holds up a slim hand, “No more on the subject, you’re beautiful,” She says it so candidly, that Penelope’s sure her friend does believe it. 

Penelope herself is not too sure. Is the evidence not enough that no suitor, not a single one, has ever seen to be interested in her? And if not just that, she hears the other girls of the Ton, especially for some reason the younger ones, sniggering behind her back. 

“Thanks,” Penelope blushes shyly, bobbing her head in defeat, knowing her friend will never take no for an answer, “So are you,”

And she actually is. Eloise is dressed in a sweet purple, that looks great with her dark hair. Her hair is pinned up in a elegant wave, and a neat gold necklace graces her throat. Her note-book, as usual, is held tight in her hand. 

“Come on,” Eloise swings herself on her doorknob, like she’s a five year old, “Everyone’s waiting,” 

Penelope concedes, and joins her friend to walk down the castles, many, many stairs. How people manage to clean it is beyond her. The sun has almost completely set, and lanterns have been lit. Penelope watches her shadow twist and turn in the twilight.  The whole family is waiting together to go into the dining room. Penelope smells them all before she can see them. 

She’s always had a keener sense of smell than her sister and mother; Penelope can pick up scents from seemingly miles away. It’s helpful in her line of work. She can tell who the two people are that are snogging out in the dark walk by a mere sniff. 

But it also means that the strength of Colin’s scent almost makes her stagger.

Penelope had forgotten what it was like. How his scent engulfs her like a hot bath, and seems to soak into her skin. No wonder she used to watch his almost every move. At a mere whiff it’s like a hook has caught in her belly, and Colin’s winding her unconsciously into his embrace. 

She refuses to do that tonight; watch him pathetically from the sidelines. Penelope forces her gaze from the corner where he’s chatting amiably with his mother to greet Daphne and Simon.

“Penelope,” To her surprise Daphne approaches her with open arms, wrapping the youngest Featherington in a hug, “Thank you for coming,” Both women do their best to embrace each other over Daphne’s sizable baby bump. They laugh in defeat as they break apart. 

Daphne’s such a perfect duchess, and a perfect Omega. Her smile sweet and kind, and Penelope can’t help but feel welcome in her presence. The Duchess of Hastings smells like vanilla. Her hair is done up in a way where Simon’s mating bite is clear, and possessive on her pale skin. 

Penelope knows they have a young son, Edward. But she supposes he’s too young to stay up for such a late dinner, and is probably sleeping in the nursery. 

“Thank you for inviting me,” Penelope smiles, curtseying, the practiced speech drilled into her since adulthood, “I am most honored by the invitation,” Not as honored as her mother was. 

Penelope’s Mama threw herself into an absolute tizzy after she received the invitation. They barely get invited to society events these days, let alone a personal invite to a Duke's country home. 

“Anything for Eloise’s oldest friend,” Daphne says charmingly, “You’re practically family in any case,” She squeezes Penelope’s arm in a friendly manner.

“Miss Featherington,” The Duke greets her more formally; they’ve never had more than a brief conversation, “I know we have not talked much, but I look forward to making your acquaintance,” He smells like a burning fire; and his gaze is kind and warm. 

“I do too, Duke,” Penelope custies, feeling awkward. She should have come down sooner instead of hiding upstairs. How rude it is of her to not introduce herself to the master of the house, when she’s staying in his home. 

Simon Hasting smiles gracefully however, his handsome features somehow even more gorgeous next to his beautiful mate. 

“Simon please,” He assures her, and Penelope blushes graciously, before backing away with Eloise.

“Don’t get caught in a long conversation with them,” Eloise whispers to her in undertone, “All they want to talk about is _babies_ ,” She shudders exaggeratedly. 

“El!” Penelope lets out a frightened giggle, really hoping that Daphne and Simon didn’t hear.

In truth she doesn’t like to hear talk about babies either. But it’s more because she’s probably never going to have the chance to have any. 

“What?” Eloise says, blasé as always, “There’s only so much I can listen to the newest word Ed’s said this week,” She plucks a spare grape lying on a side table and pops it aggressively into her mouth. 

Penelope winces sympathetically, understanding where her friend's angst is coming from. Most men only consider Omega’s as baby making machines; their intense fertility means every heat can basically guarantee a child. It’s what men, especially those equal to Eloise’s standing to expect from her. And something that her friend hates most heartily. 

“Hello again Miss Featherington,” Anthony approaches them with a abrupt blow, a beautiful black haired woman on his arm, “Sister,” The oldest Bridgerton smells like leather. Although Penelope notices some of the hardness in his eyes, softens when his mate smiles up at him. 

“Hello Anthony,” Penelope curtseys while Elosie gives her brother the stink eye. 

“May I introduce my wife, Kate Bridgerton,” Anthony squeezes his wife's waist, staring down at her lovingly. 

“Very lovely to meet you,” Kate grins at her, something cheeky and challenging behind her smile. Her scent smells like a lightning storm, and Penelope can immediately tell they’re good for each other. 

“Nice to meet you too,” Penelope says candidly, liking her from the start. 

She’s heard about their small daughter, although she’s never met her. No doubt she’s in the nursery like her cousin, the pup far too young not to come along for the family visit. 

Penelope's about to inquire about her, when the scent of freshly baked goods washes over her like a large wave. 

Colin. 

She turns tentatively to find him standing behind her. His hair is a little shorter, his skin slightly darker and a shade of stubble is growing on his chin. Penelope rubs her suddenly burning neck, as Colin bows gracefully, his scent growing even stronger in the process. 

“Pen,” Colin smiles down at her cheerfully, and Penelope’s stomach does flip-flops. How is it that he always smells good enough to eat?

“Colin,” Penelope says through tight lips, trying to fight back the sudden need to lick his neck just to see if it tastes like sugar. 

“It’s been so long,” Colin opens up his arms like he intends to embrace her like one of his sisters. 

It shouldn’t be an insult, but somehow it still is. Penelope steps back, accidentally stepping on Eloise’s foot, in an effort to ignore his enticing looking arms. 

“It has been,” Penelope says wincing awkwardly, wrapping her arms around her. 

The look Colin gives her is mostly confusion with a little piece of hurt mixed in, and it takes all she has not to fall into him.

‘ _Alpha upset_ ,’ A little piece of her cries out, but Penelope ignores it for the sake of her dignity. 

“His tour was quite successful,” Eloise elbows Colin in the ribs, and in a flash his puppy dog expression disappears.

“It _was_ ,” Colin asks proudly, with a roguish wink at his brother. Anthony rolls his eyes a bit too knowingly. 

Unfair jealously burns in Penelope's gut. Of course she already knew it. But she wasn't expecting him to be so proud about the fact. The idea of him flirting with some faceless, simpering, Omega, makes her irrationally want to break something. 

“Almost  _ too _ successful I hear,” Penelope says pointedly, before she can stop the words coming out. 

The small group turns to stare at her, open mouthed. Penelope blushes to the roots of her hair. There’s a beat, before Anthony and Kate both burst out laughing. 

“Ha!” Anthony howls, wiping his eyes before clapping his younger brother on the back, “She’s got you there Colin,” 

Penelope wants the ground to swallow her. From the admiring looks she’s getting from both Viscount and Viscountess, it’s clear their opinion of her has been raised up. 

But Colin has a stunned looked on his face, like she’s just slapped him. Unable to meet his questioning eye, she stares at her shoes. 

Just in the nick of time a butler steps out of the dining room, and clears his throat loudly. 

“Dinner is served,” He announces, his large nose in the air. 

The family congregation follows him inside, chattering all the while. Eloise squeezes her hand, grinning all the while, and Penelope manages to feel a little better. 

She is sat next to Eloise and Violet Bridgerton at the long wooden table; Colin, thankfully, has been placed as far away from her as possible. Although she can’t escape his scent, she can at least escape him. 

In the first course, a sweet green soup, she gets to chat to her friend. But on the next, pork, Penelope finds herself turned to face Violet. She finds herself rather tongue-tied next to the mature woman she's always seen as a motherly figure, who's warm flowery scent is much more comforting than Penelope's own mothers artificial one. 

“It’s lovely to see you again Penelope,” Violet says kindly, after a sip of her red wine, “I never get to hear much about you; your mother always chatters along about your older sisters,” She cocks her head, in a practiced, interested manner. Although Penelope can tell by the hardness in her eyes, Violet doesn't think much of her dear Mama. Not that she blames her. 

“Yes well,” Penelope says ruefully, picking at her food, “I never get up to much," She shrugs, and Violet tsks sympathetically. 

“Are you looking forward to this year's season?” The older Omega continues to ask about her, a nice change to what she's used to, “It’s your _fourth_ , I believe,” The words aren't mean, but more exploratory. 

Penelope has a suspicion as the older Vicountess wishes to know why both her, and her second youngest daughter have yet to be snatched up, and if it's a sort of scheme they've set up together. Ever the romantic, she has no doubt Violet doesn't really understand why Eloise detests marriage so. Penelope does. She had grown up in a house-hold which was not a fairy-tale, instead more like a war ground. 

“Very much,” Penelope does her best to smile, although honestly she'd dreading it. 

Well when she has to be _herself_ anyway. Penelope is looking forward to becoming Lady Whistledown again.

“And have you presented yet?” Violet asks before taking another bite of her food. 

“Yes,” Penelope says without missing a beat, inwardly hating herself for lying to her, “Beta,” 

To be fair it's _going_ to be true. Only people at risk of presenting as Omega's need to take proper precautions. The heat that occurs upon presentation can be intensely dangerous if the person in question is around unmatched Alpha's. 

“Not to worry dear,” This time Violet's tone is a tad too condescendingly, even for Penelope's taste,  “You’re a lovely person, you’ll find someone,” She pats her hand, in that apologetic manner almost everyone uses when she tells them. 

Although Penelope can't help but notice with a jolt of apprehension that Violet's eyes are sparkling. If she didn't know better in a _scheming_ manner. 

“Mama inviting people over for me is bad enough,” Eloise interjects, clearly sensing Penelope's uncomfortable,  “Please don’t torture my friends as well,” 

“It’s not torture Eloise,” Violet tuts, the sparkle not leaving her, “There’s a very nice new pastor visiting the Hastings tomorrow, he’s a Beta too, I believe,” She talks more to herself than any other of her offspring. 

“Mama,” To Penelope's surprise it's Colin who speaks up, apparently listening from the other end of the table, “It is not responsibility to set up every young woman we know,”

Penelope meets his eyes, and to her surprise finds them completely serious. She cocks her head at him, and Colin takes a sharp sip of alcohol, looking away. 

“Thank you Violet,” Penelope says to the older woman, forcing herself to sound appreciative, “That sounds nice,” She's never liked the stigma of only Beta's and Beta's being together. But her mother's certainly never offered to find her a man. And who knows? He might finally be the man to get her off Colin.

“Yeah about as nice as wearing this corset,” Eloise snorts into her plate. 

“ _Eloise!_ ” Violet begins to admonish her for her terrible table manners, the line of subject changing. 

Penelope looks up from her plate once more to find Colin watching her, and does her best not to think about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to tell me what you think!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone!
> 
> Next chapters up! Sorry it's been a while. I just started a new job and everything's a little hectic at the minute.
> 
> Hope everyone enjoys!

After dinner Penelope sits herself safely away from where the family is watching an enthusiastic Hyacinth patter away on the piano. Colin is comfortably chatting with Anthony and Kate on the other side of the room. 

Penelope ignores her pounding heart to concentrate on what Eloise is saying. Although her best friends' furious pace of speech and topic isn’t doing much to calm her shredded nerves. 

“I can’t believe she has the gall to say such things to the Queen!” Eloise flings an old Lady Whistledown pamphlet down in her lap, her eyes brimming over with admiration, “I mean, Lady Whistledown has to know she reads every line,” She grins. Penelope smiles wryly in return, never wanting to put her friend down for her obsession again but also not wanting to encourage her. 

It’s been four years, and Eloise _still_ hasn’t figured it out. She’s been close. Penelope’s honestly surprised it hasn’t happened yet. But she’s secretly glad. She likes anonymity- it’s safe. 

Eloise is great at many things, but Penelope’s not sure she would be able to keep her mouth shut at the news. At least all of her family would know. _At least_. And Penelope has no doubt most of London would be informed by the next fortnight. 

And she’s not ready for that. 

Not _yet_. 

“She certainly has the ability to sway her majesty’s opinion,” Penelope agrees with a shrug. In all honesty she never expected it. No other gossip pamphlets ever seem to affect the upper class of the Ton so. 

But then never before were they being individually exposed. 

“Perhaps that’s part of her scheme!” Eloise leans forward, her hands balled in her lap, “To take power over the monarchy by influencing the Queen!” 

Penelope has a sudden vivid image of her hanging over the Queen, tugging on strings that are fastened onto her fingertips, enabling her to play the monarch like a puppet. It’s so ridiculous she almost bursts out laughing. 

“I hardly think she’d only be talking about society gossip if that was her plan El,” Penelope murmurs, not really listening anymore. She’s found an error in one of her paragraph, and she winces, wishing she could go back and time to re-write. 

The scent of freshly baked pastries hits her far too late. 

“Hello Ladies,” Colin grins at the pair of them, as he flops down beside them. He throws his arm round the back of the love seat, and his arm brushes against Penelope’s neck. 

All of Penelope’s hair stands up on end, and a long shiver ripples through her.  Colin looks down at her with questioning eyes. Penelope ignores him, shuffling closer to Elosie. 

“Bugger off Colin,” Eloise pokes her tongue, childishly, out at him, “We’re trying to have a _serious_ conversation,” 

“About _Lady Whistledown_?” Colin’s voice immediately hardens. Penelope can practically see the shadow of Marina in his eyes.

She looks down at her lap. She’s never forgotten what she did to both of them. Even though what Marina was trying to do to him was wrong, Penelope knows she went the wrong way about destroying her plans to trick Colin into marriage. 

She’s never gone that far again. 

Colin picks up one Whistledown pamphlet with distaste, looking it over with narrowed eyes. 

“Yes,” Penelope says harshly, as he chucks away her work. His scent smells more burnt than delicious and she can tell he’s upset. 

“It was nice to be out from under her sights I admit,” Colin leans back in his seat, ruffling his hair. His grin pops back on his face as quickly as a spring shower. 

Penelope wonders what it’s like to be that positive. 

“Colin’s already wanting to leave us,” Eloise rolls her eyes, “He wants to go see Russia next,” Penelope does her best to ignore the disappointed swoop in her belly. She should be happy that he's leaving. Less temptation. Less of his scent that's threatening to sink into her clothes and stay there forever. 

“You could always come with me Eloise,” Colin teases her as Penelope shifts uneasily. 

“Don’t tempt me,” Eloise says seriously, tapping her hand anstily on her leg, like she's itching for something. 

“How about you Pen?” Colin bumps her shoulder playfully, “Fancy traipsing with me around the continent?” He smiles down at her, and Penelope almost melts. 

_Almost._

“Perhaps,” Penelope says with a stiff smile, “If I had the luxury,” She’s not sure her family could even pay for a trip across to France right now. 

Colin’s smile droops for half a second. Penelope grits her teeth, wishing she hadn’t spoken. No one ever wants to hear when you have problems in your life. Especially, world destroying problems. Money problems. No one in the Ton has money problems. You're either in the elite circle or out. 

“I could sneak you two into my luggage,” Colin’s smile flips back, his charm shining off his pours, “Or you could pretend to be my maids,” Eloise laughs. 

Penelope attempts too. 

It’s awful. But him bunking her in just like she’s his sister, when Penelope’s feelings for him are anything but sisterly- it stings. It's always stung. 

“I don’t think that would be appropriate,” Penelope whispers to her lap. She didn’t mean to say it loud enough to be heard. At least not by Colin. 

Eloise is busy making some comment about what is an is not appropriate for a lady in society, and the unfairness of it all. Colin meanwhile looks uncharacteristically concerned. 

“Penelope,” Colin says, the use of her full maiden name rare and uncomfortable, “Are we still _friends_?” His forces her to meet his eyes, and her fingers play anxiously with her skirt. 

_Friends._ Penelope bites her lip. She should be thankful. He's a fine man, a kind one, and he considers her his friend. 

And yet the word still rusts in her mouth, making her feel incredibly small and ugly. 

“Of course,” Penelope says pithily, although she completely understands she hasn’t been as nice to him as she usually was. 

Is that a bad thing? Penelope doesn’t feel like she’s not being herself. Just saying everything that comes to her head, instead of tucking it down. 

“Forgive me for being rude, but you’re not acting like we are,” Colin's mouth is half smiling, but his eyes are still serious. 

Penelope sighs. She doesn't want to hurt him. But she's getting sick of hurting herself. 

“Colin you’re an eligible Alpha, I’m a young woman out in society,” Penelope looks him straight in the eye, and attempts not to drown in their blue-green depths, “People will talk if we’re too friendly,” Which is true. A perfectly fine excuse for hiding the real reason. 

Colin looks pleasantly bemused, his head cocked like a puppy. 

“Yes… but you’re _you_ ,” He says, his perfect lips quirked. 

Penelope feels her entire face flush with blood. The worst bit is he’s not even trying to be cruel. 

“ _And?_ ” Penelope bites back, turning her gaze roughly away from him.

“How about another song?” Violet claps her hands together, looking pleasantly tired, “Colin, darling, would you sing another tune?” 

"Of course Mama," Colin agrees immediately, his voice loud and carefree. 

Penelope stiffens, her entire body a burning rod, as Colin places his hand an eyelash width length away from her leg. He lopes gracefully off the couch, swiping a piece of cake she was eyeing off on the way to the piano. 

“Daphne, will you play?” Violet implores her oldest daughter. 

Daphne however, rests her hand tiredly against her baby bump, leaning sleeping against her husband. Penelope watches longingly, her bottom lip between her teeth, as Simon strokes his wife's hair lovingly. 

“I think I’ve finished for the night mama,” Daphne smiles apologetically. 

Violet nods her head, her eyes full of love at her daughter and unborn pup, and turns her eye, next instead on her daughter-in-law. 

“No,” Kate says quickly, before she can even ask, “I play like a cat crying anyway,” She laughs self-deprecatingly and the room laughs with her. 

Penelope wonders what it is like to gather admiration so quickly to oneself. How Kate does it as easily as breathing. 

“Pen can play,” Eloise pipes up loudly. It takes Penelope half a second to realise what she said. Less than that to become immediately horrified by the suggestion. 

“ _El!_ ” Penelope exclaims, her cheeks pinkening. 

“What?” Eloise squeezes her arm in quiet encouragement, “You’re good!” 

“You’re exaggerating,” Penelope shakes her head, abashed at being put on the spot. She’s definitely better than any of her sisters. But she’s not sure she matches up to the skills of the Bridgerton's.

“I’m sure you’re being modest,” Violet smiles gracefully, her scent soft and motherly, “I would very much like to hear your talents Penelope,” The whole family is looking at her expectantly. 

Penelope doesn’t want to do it. But she also doesn’t want to let down her favourite family in the world. 

“Okay,” Penelope says quietly, wiping her sweaty palms on her dress. 

The walk to the piano feels like the longest walk in the world. Colin is half watching her, half sorting through sheets of music. Penelope tucks a piece of hair behind her ear, before sitting down. She can feel her chest, rise and expand, and she does her best to contain her burgeoning stage fright. She's never performed in front of strangers before. 

“You don’t have to Pen,” Colin says, his warm breath brushing against her hair. 

“I want to,” Penelope says, hoping she can siphon some of his confidence off into her own. He nods, although she's not sure if he believes her. 

“Do you know this one?” Colin passes her over a sheet of music. 

Andante, Andante. 

“Yes,” Penelope says flipping through it, just to make sure, glad that she actually does, because she knows she would have said yes anyway. 

Colin smiles at her as Penelope places the music on the stand, and she grimaces back. 

She takes a few deep breaths, before she begins to play, not wanting her pounding heart to make her start too fast. Penelope plays, her fingers firm yet soft on the ivory keys, making sure not to notice how his scent swells around her as Colin breathes in. 

“ _Take it easy, with me please, touch me gently like a summer evening breeze_ ,” Colin’s voice is strong and sweet, he’s always had a beautiful voice, “ _Take your time, make it slow,_ ” He changes his tone, dropping it lower. 

Penelope tries to tell herself it’s Colin messing with the melody, not the dark grumble in his voice that makes her fingers slip, almost playing the wrong cord. 

“ _Andante, andante_ ,” Colin presses his hand against her shoulder, as if he’s noticed and is trying to steady her, “ _Just let the feeling grow_ ,” 

He raises his dark eyebrows at her. Penelope wets her lips. 

“ _Make your fingers soft and light, let your body be the velvet of the night_ ,” Penelope sings, clearing her throat when her voice cracks, “ _Touch my soul, you know how_ ,” Colin's fingers clench slightly against her skin. Penelope looks up, as flames of something she can't name, lick her round from where his fingers touch and all the way up her throat. 

“ _Andante, andante_ ,” Penelope breathes more than sings, “ _Go slowly with me now_ ,” She’s so busy watching him, watch her that she doesn’t notice she’s got to the end of the page. 

Penelope’s fingers slip round the edge of the page, and her stomach flips as she knows she’s not going to be able to turn it in time. She may know the piece, but she hasn’t memorized it yet. 

But Colin is there, and he turns it for her easily, the tips of their fingers brushing together. 

“ _Tread lightly on my ground,_ ” Colin harmonizes with her, his perfect voice making her sound almost as good as he does, “ _Andante, Andante_ ,” 

“ _Oh please don’t let me down_ ,” Penelope whispers the final line, feeling herself tear up stupidly. 

The silence after they finish is loud, almost deafening. Colin's face is shinning, and he bows his head slightly at her. 

“Bravvo!” Anthony begins the clapping, which quickly grows louder and louder as the rest of the Bridgerton's join in.

“You two make an excellent pair,” Daphne observes as Penelope fumbles to put the sheet of music away. 

“Do you want to do another one Pen?” Colin asks hopefully, his eyes dancing. 

Her world is spinning. Penelope had forgotten what it was like. How _intoxicating_ it is to be beside him. 

Her skin is still burning where he touched her. It's _stimulating._ And _dangerous._

“I-” Penelope swallows, her dry throat scratchy, “Actually I think I’ve had enough for tonight; I might head up to bed,” She stands up too fast, and all the blood rushes to her head. 

She stumbles, and Colin's hand is there to catch her, tight on her forearm. Penelope makes a strained sound in the back of her throat. 

“Really?” Colin asks, his eyebrows furrowed. Penelope nods, unable to speak, silently pushing his paw of a hand away. 

“I’ll join you,” Eloise gets up from the couch, all her pamphlets held tight in her small fist. 

“Sorry about putting you on the spot like that,” Eloise says quietly as they leave the room, her hand rubbing soft circles on her own, "You _do_ play excellently,” 

“Thanks El,” Penelope says vaguely, her mind still elsewhere. Her limbs feel like hot soup. They're slowly cooling down, the further the retreat away from the longue. But Penelope still doesn't like it. 

She can't help but think it's something to do with Colin; how he's effecting her. It doesn't feel like the uncertain butterflies that always used to consume her around him. 

It's different. It's _hotter._

“Are you okay?” Eloise asks, squeezing her elbow in concern. 

Penelope takes a long breaths through her nose. It's probably just because she's older. Colin is an Alpha. And she's older. That's all. 

“Yes,” Penelope says briskly, smiling at her best friend, “Perfectly,” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to tell me what you think!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone!
> 
> Next chapter's up! Hope everyone likes it!!

“ _Eloise! Penelope!_ ” Violet Bridgerton’s voice rings out loudly across the green, “Our visitor has just arrived!”

Eloise flops down on their picnic blanket, throwing her arms over her face. Penelope giggles before throwing their last scone at her.

“We did promise,” Penelope stands up, brushing off her knees, tilting her face up to the early afternoon sunshine. 

They’ve spent the whole morning exploring the grounds and relaxing outside. It gave the young women plenty of time alone to catch up. It’s also having the added benefit of giving Penelope a break from Colin’s overwhelming scent. The fresh air is sweet relief on her overworked nostrils. 

“You promised,” Eloise groans, taking a rough bite of the scone, “I reluctantly agreed,”

But she still takes Penelope’s hand and allows herself to be helped up. 

“At least this one is here for _me_ \- not _you_ ,” Penelope tries her best to make her friend feel better.

Eloise loops her arm around her, as they start to tread back towards the house. 

“That does make it slightly more bearable,” She sighs dramatically, dragging her feet up the elaborate stairs, “Except _you’ll_ be miserable,” Eloise pouts her bottom lip. 

Penelope grimaces. She is, in all honesty, not looking forward to it either. She does not need another man of station, Alpha or Beta, to look down upon her like she’s nothing. Or worse- look right through her to some other, much prettier, accomplished, wealthy lady. 

“I’m sure he’ll be perfectly pleasant,” Penelope puts on a brave smile, although she's not expecting this to be different than any other interaction she's had with the testosterone filled species over the years. 

“How can he be?” Eloise smiles at her teasingly, “He’s _male_ ,” 

Penelope almost chokes on the breath she was taking in. A footman gives her a weird look as they walk through the back door. 

“You’re hopeless,” Penelope giggles, before shoving her lightly, just out of sight of the Bridgerton pack. 

“It’s true!” Eloise pushes her back, _hard_ , laughing when they come into view, and Penelope almost trips over her feet. 

“Hello you two,” Daphne’s eyes shine down at the pair of them, her own posture perfect even with her pregnant belly, “We were beginning to think you’d gotten lost,” 

Penelope’s eyes swoop around the room. Colin’s playing cards with Hyacinth and Gregory. She knows he’s happy without looking at him; his scent is like freshly baked pie, and it plays with her heart strings. 

Penelope forces her eyes away, back to where Violet, Colin and Daphne are standing with a stranger. 

He’s wearing a dark suit, and is still holding his hat, which is hanging awkwardly between his fingers. His hair is dark and curly, his skin as dark as chocolate and his smile is soft and shy. 

“With the largest house in the world always looming in the distance,” Eloise says peevishly, crossing her arms, her eyes turned up to the ceiling, “Not _likely_ ,”

Penelope bites her lip. The stranger is still smiling, but Violet is frowning at her daughter. 

“Mr Kingsley,” She introduces them, her eyes simultaneously warm and steely, “This is my daughter Eloise Bridgerton,” 

“A pleasure to meet you,” Mr Kingsley smiles at her, bowing. Penelope can’t help but notice with a smile, that he’s a tad lopsided. 

“Charmed,” Eloise bobs a weak excuse for a curtsey, managing to look the perfect amount of indifferent and bored. 

“And this is my daughters friend, Miss Penelope Featherington,” Violent continues, much more graciously, “Penelope, this is the local towns reverend, Charles Kingsley,” 

“Hello,” Charles waves slightly at her, using his hat to do so. 

Penelope bobs her head shyly in greeting. 

“You two can sit over here,” Violet points over to a couch placed quite a way away from the main party, and secluded by plates cake and freshly made biscuits, “Feel free to help yourself to tea,” 

Eloise shoots her an apologetic look as Penelope finds herself being physically pushed to sit down with the young reverend. Who, although looks just as apprehensive as about being forced into conversation with a stranger, is, she can admit, quite attractive. 

Penelope sits down, and presses her knees together nervously. Violet grins at her conspiratorially before waltzing away, assumingly to admonish Eloise who still looks like a storm cloud. 

“It’s lovely to meet you,” Charles says carefully, like he’s reading from a script. 

Penelope finds she can’t look at him. She’s never had a gentleman caller come for her, but now she finds she really doesn’t understand why girls get into a tizzy over it. This is unbelievably awkward. 

“Likewise,” Penelope says in a small, squeaky voice.

The two lapse into a very long, very uncomfortable silence. Penelope longs to reach for a macaroon, but doesn’t know if she should. 

There is one surprisingly nice thing though. 

Mr Kingsley is no doubt a Beta. He has no scent; none at all. And if Penelope really, really concentrates on only focusing on him, she can pretend that Colin’s sweet scent doesn’t exist. 

“So,” Charles says after what feels like hours, “Are you out in society Miss Featherington?” Definitely not Penelope’s favourite topic, but anything would be better than terrible nothing. 

“Yes,” Penelope meets his eye, before flashing him a small smile, “This is going to be my fourth year being presented to the Queen,”

“Fourth?” Charles’ eyebrows furrow in confusion. 

Penelope’s stomach drops, and her face flushes red. She knows it’s shameful. She’s going to be twenty-two soon. A couple more years and then she’s a spinster. 

Her mother, of course, tells her she already _is_ one. 

Stupidly, Penelope feels herself getting rather teary. 

“My dear Miss Featherington, what is the matter?” Charles' fingers faintly brush over her hand. Penelope barely resists the urge to hide them under her thighs. 

“I know I’m not much of a catch,” Penelope bobs her head, feeling sorry for herself, “Most eligible young ladies get snapped up in their first year,”

Charles’ mouth opens slightly, and his brown eyes widen as he realises his mistake. Penelope sees his brain tick behind his eyes, as his bottom lip wobbles as he tries to think of something to say. She grinds her teeth together. Why can't she make light jokes and charm like all the other young ladies seem to do. Instead she's gone and make him feel horrible. 

“But if you had,” Charles says quietly, “I wouldn’t have had the chance to meet you,” It’s said shyly, but sincerely. 

He’s watching her with interest Penelope notices. Real interest. Not just a man who wants a kiss or a dowry, but a man who generally thinks someone’s interesting. 

“Right,” Penelope says, with poorly hidden surprise, “Okay then,”

“I hope I haven’t offended you,” Charles winces, looking equally down. 

“No, you haven’t,” Penelope finds her hand on his knee. 

Charles looks down at her hand like it's the most incredible thing he's ever seen. Not many people look at her like she's amazing. Especially people as sweet as this man seems to be. 

“Please Mr Kingsley, tell me about your rectory,” Penelope looks up at him with a smile on her face. 

She planned to move on from Colin.

This might finally be the chance for her to do so. 

\--------------------------------------------------

Colin storms into Simon’s office. His heart is pounding in his chest. Penelope’s gentle laughter is still ringing in his ears. It wasn’t the shy, careful laughter she uses with strangers either. It was loud and sincere. 

Anthony and a newly arrived Benedict are in the middle of happily helping themselves to some fancy looking scotch. Colin slams the door shut, and they almost drop the bottle. 

“What the hell Col?!” Anthony glares at him, as he places the drink down carefully like Simon heard the glass slip. 

“ _Who_ is _he_?” Colin asks abruptly, not bothering to pretend to care about his elder brother's antics. Although he is slightly miffed he wasn’t invited to the secret drinking party. 

“Who?” Benedict asks unconcerned as he pulls out some crystal whiskey glasses. 

“Mr Kingsley,” Colin exclaims loudly, his fists clenched. 

“He seems nice enough,” Anthony says with a shrug, passing over the bottle to Benedict so he can pour, “Second son of a local gentleman, only a Beta, but you can't have everything,”

A simple description for a stranger. Yet Colin couldn't help see a crafty character behind Kingsley’s kind smile. The lust in his eyes as they hovered over Penelope. 

Or perhaps he’s losing the plot. And Mr Kingsley is a perfectly fine gentleman, caught by his lovely friend. 

Surprisingly that doesn’t make him feel any better though. 

“Hmph,” Colin harrumphs, his face rather red, “He doesn’t look nice to me,” A lie, but one that makes him feel better. 

“Why?” Anthony looks up, his eyes narrowed, like normal, always looking on negative side, “What’s he done?” Colin notices his eldest brother's scents growing. He's the most temperamental Alpha out of the lot of him, and his hackles are always slightly raised. 

It usually annoys Colin; but at the minute his blood is also pounding. Her hand was resting on his leg for Christ's sake!

“He’s talking to Penelope,” Colin frowns, his voice low and dark. 

Anthony however, immediately relaxes. 

“Oh is that all,” Anthony breathes, taking the full glass of drink Benedict passes him. 

“Is that _all_?" Colin asks peevishly, irritated by his brothers lack of bother at the obviously terrible situation, “A man of small position, not to mention someone we barely know, is flirting with one of _our_ family friends,” He shakes his head. 

All he wanted to do while his Pen sat beside that man, was jump between them. Yet she was laughing. Smiling. Curling a gorgeous curl of her red locks behind her ear... 

Colin just had to sit there, boiling in his seat, almost snapping playing cards in half.

Mr Kingsley answered all her questions politely, his brown eyes shining with admiration. Colin wanted to rip his head off. The urge got so strong that he had to leave the room.

"In my opinion Mr Kingsley is a perfect match for Miss Featherington," Anthony says casually, unaware of his brothers inner turmoil, before reaching for a cigar, "Someone of her station could not ask for better," 

Colin glares at him, his glaze flashing a blood red. 

"I thought better of you brother," Colin takes a large step forward, his broad shoulders raising up protectively.   
  


Anthony and Benedict exchange identical bewildered looks. 

"Colin it is true," Benedict sits up a little higher in his chair, as if he's finally realising the seriousness of his feelings, "Penelope is lovely, but she comes from a family come down in society," 

"That's not fair," Colin shakes his head fervently. 

Although he can't help but remember the titbits of information he's heard about her family on his tour over the years. How they'd sold their family home, and almost every piece of jewelry to pay off the late Mr Featherington's bets. How faded Penelope's clothes look. How relieved she seemed to be invited out to stay with him, and how Eloise has been apparently been paying for treats and fabric for both of them. 

"But unfortunately it's the way things are," Benedict says in his gentle way. Colin almost feels his anger leave him as he stares into his brother's kind eyes. 

Anthony however has no such tact. 

"Why do you care so much anyway?" Anthony asks, the lines in his forehead crinkling. 

"Because..." Colin stammers, struggling to find an answer to his question, "She can't be with him!" 

The words ring loudly in the air.

Anthony blinks, once, twice.

Benedict is barely managing to hide a grin. 

Colin looks between the pair hopelessly, his stomach twisting in knots. 

He hasn't felt his way since... Since Marina. 

“Brother,” Benedict says knowingly, crossing one leg elegantly over the other. 

“What?” Colin bites out roughly. 

“If I didn’t know any better I’d say that you were jealous,” Benedict says tongue and cheek, chuckling slightly deep in his throat. 

“No,” Colin says immediately on impulse. 

Colin Bridgerton does not get jealous. Especially about one of the dearest people to him. His oldest friend. Penelope. Sweet, beautiful Penelope, who always listens and makes him laugh like no other.

_No._ No, no, no. 

This is brotherly protective. That is all. 

Mr Kingsley is just not right for her. He's... too... Well Colin doesn't know, but there must be something. 

No one is a good enough man for Penelope. 

“Ohhh,” Anthony however is grinning like a fiend, and he slaps Benedict on the back, “You just might be right,” 

Colin growls in the back of his throat, upset that his older brothers aren’t taking him seriously.

And that’s all. _Really._

“I am _not_ jealous,” Colin is patting his hand against his leg, “I’m just _concerned-_ ” 

“That Penelope’s found a perfectly nice Beta?” Anthony finishes his sentence, rolling his eyes like he's an complete idiot. 

“No I’m just… worried,” Colin repeats himself hastily, feeling as though he's trying to swim up a waterfall and failing miserably. 

“That she may get engaged,” 

“Stop putting words in my mouth Benedict,” Colin states angrily, his cheeks flushed red. 

He marches out of Simon's office, abashed and thoroughly pissed off. 

Why can't they just understand? Just because the idea of Penelope being with Kingsley makes him want to _kill_ , doesn't mean he's in love with her. 

He cares for her. But of _course_ he does. You'd have to be a fool not to care for Penelope. 

He just... it's just. 

Just. Just. _Just._

His brothers tumble out after him, laughing heartily. 

“I bet that’s not the only thing you want to put in your mouth,” Anthony jokes crudely, and Benedict snorts. 

A flash of him ducking down to lick Penelope's perfect plump breast enters Colin's mind. It wanders to what it would be like to take her nipple into his mouth, suckling furiously as she writhed. How she would cry out, her voice just as beautiful as it was last night during their duet. How her chest is certainly covered in freckles. 

Would she allow him to count them? 

Colin's Alpha stirs, growling with contentment. As does his cock. 

His brothers are still laughing. 

“I’m serious!” Colin cries out, desperately wanting them to just shut up, “I do _not_ want to marry Penelope!” 

There's a small squeak. Anthony and Benedict fall silent, their faces suddenly sober. 

"Oh," Colin spins round, so fast he's almost dizzy, "Pen,"

Penelope stands mere metres behind them. Her cheeks are pink. Her gorgeous blue eyes wide. They blink at him, and Colin sees wave after wave of rage, disappointment and hurt flash through them. 

He stands there- silent and stupid as she curls into herself, like she normally does with strangers. 

But not with him. Never with him. 

"Sorry for my intrusion," Penelope's face wobbles, and she turns her eyes away from him, "This sounds private," 

She rushes away, up the stairs and out of sight, her pink skirts rustling.

Colin must be imagining things, but he swears he smells a scent. One that must be hers, incredibly faint, but there none the less. Ink and parchment. Like he's just pressed his face into a well worn book. 

It smells like _home_. 

"Shit," Colin curses, his voice breaking. 

Why is he such a fool? 

He... he cares for her. 

And he clearly just hurt her terribly. 

"Well," Anthony murmurs conversationally from behind him, "You really fucked that one up didn't you?" 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to tell me what you think!


	5. Chapter 5

“Hmm,” Penelope smiles up and into the shining sun. 

She looks over her shoulder to her left, to find Mr Kingsley smiling fondly at her. 

He’s come over to the Hasting's manor every day since they were first introduced, and to Penelope’s utmost surprise he seems earnestly interested in her. 

Penelope is attempting to equally throw herself into liking him, much to Eloise’s disdain. But with Colin’s hurtful comment still ringing in her ears, even almost a week later, it is nice to be in the presence of a man who _does_ consider her marriage material. 

Even if she’s not feeling the same, _fire_ , Penelope does around Colin. Mr Kingsley is perfectly… _nice_. 

He’s nice. 

Penelope is still attempting to think of another adjective for him. She’s sure she’ll get there. Love grows after all. 

“It’s pleasant isn’t it,” Charles comments lightly, as they walk together. 

They’re taking a morning stroll about the garden at Violet's suggestion. If Penelope takes a peek up at the large Hasting’s windows she’s sure she can see the hopeful Mama peaking out at them. 

All the Bridgerton siblings seem to find their Mother’s taste for match-making distasteful. Especially Eloise. Penelope has already been given an earful by her friend about not bothering to listen to her. But Penelope is enjoying having a motherly figure on _her_ side for once. She’s quite interested to discover what scheme the Viscountess Bridgerton has next to throw the pair ‘accidentally’ together.

Although Penelope is getting rather sick of her managing to get them so alone. They have exhausted almost every topic conversation, and their time alone is getting to include far too many silted silences for Penelope’s nerves. 

“I love the fresh air,” Penelope says, continuing their trend of talking about nothing. She resists the urge to kick a stray stone on the pathway, and instead laces her hands behind her back.

“I do as well,” Mr Kingsley agrees immediately. _Eagerly._

He wanted to take her arm at the start of their walk. Penelope could tell. But she’s not quite sure she’s ready for that. 

Yet. She knows it’s yet.

Honestly that’s what scares her the most. 

And although it is nice to be near a man who doesn’t make her feel like she’s going to lose her senses around him. There’s just no _spark_. But how can you tell a man who fancies you that, without breaking his heart? 

“Do you like horse-riding Miss Featherington?” Charles asks hopefully, his gaze turning towards the stables that linger in the distance, “There’s nothing I love more than a country ride,” 

“I’ve never had the chance to do much riding,” Penelope replies honestly; their family could never afford a horse, and in any case Philipa is allergic to their hair, “I do find the idea of the activity exciting,” A white lie- but that never hurt anyone. 

“Yes,” Charles says, smiling appreciatively, though his eyes fade with a little disappointment. 

“I like reading about characters who are good horsemen and women,” Penelope tries to make up for her lack of interest, “Do you like reading Mr Kingsley? I am partial to novels myself,” She smiles happily. There’s nothing like a good book. 

Penelope’s mind suddenly drifts to the pair of them sitting together, fawning over books into the late hours. A bookworm husband would be far more likely to be supportive of her job as Lady Whistledown as well...

“Novels? Not really,” Charles shrugs apologetically, “Although I do quite a lot of reading to prepare for my sermons and things,” 

“Of course,” Penelope murmurs, her dream suddenly drifting to her sitting dreadfully bored, as she reads the same psalm over, again and again. 

Or, even worse, him finding about her secret identity and completely rejecting her for it. 

Penelope plays with a button on her sleeve and tries not to feel too downhearted. Couples don’t always have to have the same interests after all. 

A cascade of laughter pours out of the house. As does the sweet scent of pastries. Penelope looks round, on some strange sort of instinct, to see Colin tumbling out of the big glass double doors, followed by two hysterical children. She bites the inside of her cheek, just managing to ignore how her heart skips a beat. 

“I wonder,” Charles pipes up nervously, and Penelope tears her eyes away from Colin tickling his niece, “If you would allow me to begin courting you properly Miss Featherington?” 

“Courting… me?” Penelope asks, her face turning a beet reed. Her stomach twists, as she knows Colin's presence and intoxicating scent is a higher cause for her flushed cheeks than her actual beaus word. 

“Yes,” Charles nods hopefully, “I find you… enchanting,” His brown eyes shine as they stare at her. Penelope's breath hitches uncomfortably. He's so sweet. 

She hitches her gloves up, and tries her best to find the words to reply to him. It's not often Penelope can't string a well worded sentence together. 

Colin's easy laugher rolls across the lawn and she feels her lungs tighten. 

“Miss Featherington?” Charles asks apprehensively, twisting his hands together. 

Penelope sighs. It's not like she has boundless suitors lined up and ready for her to choose from. A nice husband who loves her, is sure to be better than a rude husband who despises her. 

“Yes,” Penelope decides it best to answer simply, “Yes, of course, I’d be honoured,” 

Charles grins at her toothily, and Penelope equally can't help but smile at the chuffed look on his face. 

“Pen!” Colin calls out from the porch, his voice full of fake fear as he’s ‘forced’ to the ground by the two toddlers, “ _Penelope!_ Help! They’ve got me!” Penelope can see his roguish grin from here as his niece and nephew pile on top of him. 

“Why does Mr Bridgerton call you by your Christian name?” Charles asks, to Penelope’s surprise, with a hint of jealousy lying in his tone. Mr Kingsley’s normally calm, shy exterior has hardened slightly. 

Penelope lets her hand squeeze his shoulder comfortingly. She may be head over heels for Colin, but now she’s even more sure the third Bridgerton brother has _never_ thought of her in the same way. 

“I’ve known him since we were children,” Penelope shakes her head, urging him not to worry, “He thinks of me like a sister, that is all,” 

‘ _A sister he would never, ever marry, as he proudly said so himself_ ,’ Penelope thinks to herself with a wince, her heart hardening sadly. 

“Penelope _please!_ ” Colin calls out again, although he can hardly be heard over Edward and Georgina’s excited squeals, “They’ve got me!” 

Despite herself, Penelope finds himself cracking a smile. Colin is clearly having the time of his life and his niece and nephew obviously adore him, despite not knowing him long. 

‘ _Good, strong Alpha_ ,’ A strange voice inside her pipes up, love-struck, ‘ _Looking after pups_ ,’ 

The urge to join them, almost overcomes her, and without even noticing Penelope takes a step towards them, her foot sinking into the soft grass. 

Charles makes a short, confused sound, and realising her rudeness Penelope turns around, blushing. 

“I’m so sorry Mr Kingsley,” Penelope apologises, but also, stupidly, doesn’t make a move to re-join him on the path, “But Colin’s never mastered the art of controlling children, I’d better see if I can help,”

It’s a weak excuse, and Penelope doesn’t know entirely why she’s saying it. 

The best way she can describe it is there is like a rope tied to her navel, and it’s winding her into Colin’s presence. Penelope’s done her best to resist; she was so humiliated, so _angry_ with him. Not only to speak of her of being undesirable; but to do so, so publically, and in front of her no less. 

But the Alpha’s happiness does something to her, and Penelope finds herself longing to be back around him. 

“Of course, do not worry,” Charles says, sounding disappointed, but also understanding, “I have business to attend to with Mr Hastings in anycase,” 

He takes a step forward, with a serious look in his eye. Penelope’s breath catches and she clenches uncomfortably. Is Mr Kingsley about to kiss her?

“Goodbye,” Charles picks up his hand, and drops a light kiss to the top of her hand, “Penelope,” He says her reverently, before dropping her hand away. 

“Bye,” Penelope says quickly, flustered. For some reason she is desperately Colin did not see. 

Her name sounds strange, almost foreign from his lips. She knows she can’t quite call him ‘Charles’ yet.

That’s a bit too far. 

If he asks for her hand...perhaps then, that will be the right time. 

She picks her way off the path, trying her best not to think of Mr Kingsley's ring on her finger, and up towards the veranda where the children are screaming. Colin is giggling like a child himself as Edward Hastings and Georgina Bridgerton tickle him relentlessly. 

“'Ello everyone,” Penelope places her hands on her hips, incredibly amused, “What’s going on here?” 

“Uncle Colin is the monster!” Three-year old Edward explains enthusiastically, bouncing up and down on said Uncle's chest, “And we’ve caught him!” 

Penelope laughs as Colin’s face twists uncomfortably as Edward flings his whole body weight against him again and again. Georgina is busy attempting to hold his feet down, her small hands slipping on the soft leather of his boots. 

“I see that,” Penelope muses, quite satisfied by the scene of Colin being pinned down. If it wasn’t considered unlady-like she would have joined the kids, “I think he requires some more restraint, don't you?” 

“Pen!” Colin cries out in protest, his eyebrows furrowing as if he’s actually hurt. 

Penelope ignores him, to instead drag a ribbon out of her hair. Most of her red locks tumble down her shoulders, but it’s worth it to see Edward and Georgina’s faces light up.

She’s so caught up in the children’s joy, that she doesn’t notice the sides of Colin’s jaw grow slack, as she tosses her long ruby hair out of her face. 

“You can use my ribbon,” Penelope passes the long pink fabric to the oldest pup. 

“Thank you Aunty Pen,” Edward says with a toothy grin. 

“Oh no, I’m _not_ -,” Penelope stutters, her whole face flushing red.

Her being ‘Aunty Pen’ would mean she’d have to marry… Her eyes flicker over to Colin, who for some reason, is already watching her, his eyes burning and bright. 

“Yeah, thanks Aunty Pen,” Colin waggles his eyebrows up at her. 

Penelope bites the inside of her cheek, and turns her eyes away from him, her insides flopping tremendously. How can he state loudly and proudly that he’s never going to marry her, and then tease her so? 

“Children!” Daphne's voice rings out from inside, “Lunch time!” 

Apparently the thought of food is more enticing than torturing their uncle, because the kids immediately jump up and run in the house.

Colin stretches his limbs out, before untying his feet from where they were loosely bound with her ribbon.

“I thought you were coming to my rescue,” Colin accuses her flippantly. His lips quirk up handsomely, as he gazes up at her from the ground.

It's really unfair that all the Bridgerton's are so beautiful. Colin is especially so; Penelope truly believes his boyish looks and charm could let him get away with murder. Not to mention his scent that legitimately makes Penelope want to jump him. 

It's almost enough to make her want to step on his foot. 

“Wrong assumption,” Penelope says testily. Every time she looks at him she equally wants to kiss him and kill him. 

Colin's blue eyes look downward, and his crestfallen look does something to Penelope's heart. When is she going to stop falling for his lost puppy pout? After she's married? Or is she always going to feel part of her slip when he looks into her eyes. 

“Here,” Penelope sighs in defeat, holding out a hand which Colin quickly takes. 

A burst of warmth runs up the nerves of her arms, as his big hand wraps around hers. He clearly doesn't need her help to stand up, but he seems to rely on her touch all the same. He rises up, towering over her as always. He's about a head taller than her, and Penelope has to incline her neck to look up at him.

She'd probably have to stand on her tip toes to kiss him. 

She really needs to stop thinking. 

“Thank you Penelope,” Colin says earnestly, and takes to chance to squeeze her hand before Penelope quickly lets go. 

She wipes her suddenly sweaty hand on the skirt of her dress, looking around aimlessly. Colin is staring at her, his eyes wide, his mouth slightly agape. It gets to the point where Penelope . Why is he fixated on her so much all of a sudden? Is there something on her face? 

“What?” Penelope asks him abruptly, attempting to casually brush off anything that might be on her cheek. 

“You smell,” Colin sounds almost drunk, his blue eyes hazy, “ _Nice_ ,” He smiles in a lopsided way at her. 

Penelope clenches her hand into a fist. It's almost off-putting the way he's gazing at her. It puts her on edge. Like he knows something she doesn't. 

“Not quite as nice as other girls you know I’m sure,” Penelope smiles wanly. All she did was brush perfume on her neck. She's sure she doesn't smell as good as any Omega's he's flirted with lately. 

Colin's smile falls, and his mouth lands in a hard sorrowful line. 

“Oh Pen don’t be like that,” Colin pleads with her, far too apologetically, “Please, I didn’t mean to insult you,” 

Penelope immediately knows exactly what he's talking about. And she immediately wants to run away as far as she can away from him. 

She takes a quick step away, but Colin takes an answering step back towards her again. Penelope suddenly knows that even if she were to sprint across the lawn he would run after her. And since he's wearing pants, he would certainly win. 

“I didn’t mean it at all,” Colin says fervently, his face pale, "You are marriage material, _completely_ and _utterly_ ," His blue eyes take their time looking down her form. 

“I don’t...believe you,” Penelope says slowly, taken aback.

Did his eyes really just slide down her _body_? _Her_ body? Does Colin Bridgerton really think she's _attractive_? 

Penelope feels herself blush to the roots of her hair. 

“Could you find it in your heart to forgive me?” Colin asks, stepping closer. His scent wafts around her like a warm embrace, and all of the sudden Penelope feels rather wobbly on her feet. 

“Yes,” Penelope says immediately on instinct, her thoughts all of a sudden hard to work through. 

“Yes?” Colin perks up hopefully. 

Penelope grinds her teeth. She promised to herself she wouldn't forgive him this easily. This is exactly why she's been ignoring him. 

“After… you apologize a few more times at least,” Penelope quickly backtracks. 

Colin nods, although he still looks far too cheerful in her opinion. 

Penelope nods her head back vaguely, still feeling warm. Almost too warm. And fuzzy. And dizzy. She blinks rapidly, trying and failing to clear her head. 

"Pen," Colin cries out worriedly, and suddenly his arm is wrapped around her. 

“I’m sorry, I am not feeling well,” Penelope murmurs, leaning almost drunkenly into him. She could stay in his arms forever. 

' _Alpha has got me_ ,' The secret voice whispers again, swooning, ' _We're safe, we're home,_ ' 

“Let me escort you inside,” Colin offers, his voice thick with something Penelope can't quite describe. One of his hands squeezes her hip, and something hot, and desperate begins to curl around Penelope's core. 

' _What is happening?_ ' Another voice, a quite honestly _saner_ voice, squeaks in the back of her mind. 

Gathering up all her strength Penelope pushes Colin away, trembling. 

“No!” Penelope tells him forcefully, half telling herself as well, “No, I think I’ll take another walk around the grounds,” It's really not helping that ever breath she takes in is full of Colin's incredible smell. 

“Clear my head you know?” Penelope smiles weakly, fanning her face. 

“Of course,” Colin says faintly, looking like someone's just punched him in the face. 

Penelope rushes away, before it's too late. Her clothes feel too heavy for her body, her hair too hot around her neck. But each step away from Colin makes her breathing easier, her heart lighter. 

"This must be madness," Penelope whispers to herself hopelessly, as she turns a corner around to where the great lake on the Hasting's grounds lies. 

' _Alpha_ ,' The voice inside her whines. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to tell me what you think!

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to tell me what you think!


End file.
